Learn Your ABC's
by fadeinonme
Summary: They laughed, fought, got drunk, sang, filmed, loved, lost, and on rare occassion cried. A collection of one shots featuring Mark and Roger, eventually one for every letter of the alphabet. Not really slash. Rated for cussing. E is for early.
1. A

A/N: An excuse for me to write interactions between Mark and Roger, not really slash…one story for ever letter of the alphabet. They're not in any kind of order and could each be read separately if you wanted to, some will be depressing, others will be funny, just depends. No pairings really…enjoy!

**Learn your ABC's**

**A is for Angel**

"Hey boys!"

Angel's sweet voice as she came into the loft broke Mark's concentration; he was fiddling with his camera and looked up at her entrance. Roger on the other hand was too engrossed in playing the fender on the couch to notice.

Mark smiled from the table, "Hey."

"Y'know some day you two should try doing something different…just to surprise people." Angel said, with a knowing smile.

"But then we wouldn't be us, y'know. We would be just like any other guys wasting away in a loft in New York City," Mark sat on the couch, and poked his room mate in the ribs, "_Roger_.. say hello."

"Hi…" Roger looked up distractedly, "Where's Collins?"

"He..uh, he had some things to take… care…of." Mark said, hitting Roger in the side.

"Ow! What was that for?"

Mark glared at Roger and lifted his eyebrows a few times as though it would magically explain the nudge, Collins' absence, and the meaning of life. The guitarist shrugged and went back to playing his guitar.

Angel smiled, "Funny he said the same thing."

"Uh, well yea…but he only told me so I'd know that he couldn't make it tonight. I uh, don't know…anything else. Just that he had something to do, but not what…or anything."

Roger looked up from his guitar, "_Now_ what are we gonna to do? We were supposed to play poker with Collins…"

"Hey, now chico, Angel can be fun too!" The cross dresser said flashing a deck of cards before them. "Come on, let's play."

The rocker's mouth fell open as he recognized the deck, "Uno?"

"Yea, it's fun! Come on!" Angel said, opening the deck at the table and dealing out cards to two empty spaces.

Roger shook his head. "…Rockers do not play uno."

Mark walked over, picking up a group of cards, but the guitarist stayed behind.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope not at all, come on up honey." Angel tapped the empty space, with a drumstick that Mark felt in all seriousness appeared out of thin air.

"Zoom in on Roger who's trying once more to act like the tough ass rocker, but ends up looking like a baby instead."

Roger sent him a look, "Did you just pull that camera out of your ass?"

"Come on, Roger, smile, enjoy a fun game of uno!" Angel nodded, "It'll be good for you!"

The rocker stood, grumbling, "Fine."

"It'll be fun!" Angel said, passing the extra cards to Roger, "And to make it more interesting, there should be bets…"

"Bets? Oh…no-"

"Not money, silly… more like, what we want the other two, as losers, to do." Angel had a sly grin on her face.

_Oh shit…_ Mark bit his lip. This would not end well.

Roger folded his legs on the table, "Like what?"

"Like…if I win," That sly grin didn't move an inch, "You two have to dress in drag."

"What!"

"Now hey, wait a second. What happens when I win?"

_When_…not if, Roger felt he kicked every card game's ass…thoroughly.

"Whatever you like! That's the beauty of it. Pick something fun!"

Roger had a grin on his face that almost matched Angel's, and Mark knew he was screwed.

"Okay if I win…I want Mark to dress in drag."

"Oh way to be original, Rodge!"

"Hey…" Roger folded his arms across his chest. "Shut up!"

"Loved the come back too! No, it was good…_really_."

"Yea well I'll kick your ass and then see how good you think it is!"

"You always say that you'll kick my ass but you never do."

"No I don't"

"Yes you do."

Angel laughed, "Come on now, _kids_…do I have to sit between you two?"

Roger and Mark looked up, "No."

"All right, so…" Mark folded his hands, "basically no matter what happens I'm getting in a dress."

"Or a skirt!" Roger laughed.

"No, honey, you could win."

"But I'm the worst card player in the world!"

"It's true!" Roger added, "He once lost Go Fish to his 7 year old cousin…"

"No I did-..but I…I was younger then!"

"Yeah…17!"

"Hush, or I _will_ separate you two! Don't underestimate my strength, chicos!" Angel looked at them both.

They were silent.

"All right then, let's play some Uno!" Angel said.

A grueling hour later (because of course it had to be best two out of three) and they were huddled around their last game. If the stakes weren't high enough already (especially for a game of uno) they each, even Mark, had two wins under their belts…or skirt.

"Fuck…" Roger grabbed another card, increasing his hand to three.

"Ooo there we go."

"Yes!"

"Fuck."

"Damnit."

"Yeah!"

"Fuck!"

"Ooo thank you, Roger, I needed that yellow."

"Uno!"

"FUCK!"

"Someone's a little testy over a game of uno!"

Mark put his last card down.

Red on red…

"Holy shit, I won!"

Angel smiled, "See Mark, I knew you could do it."

"No way!" Roger threw his cards down in exasperation, "No way in fucking hell did I the card game master just lose at a game of Uno to Mark 'I suck at cards' Cohen!"

Mark laughed, "You better believe it! And you know what this means Roger…"

The phone rang, however, before Roger could be informed of what this meant and Mark jumped off the table to answer.

Roger let out a sigh of relief, "Saved."

"Angel that was Collins." Mark said, setting the phone down, "He's waiting for you downstairs."

"Mmkay, chicos, this has been fun! Thanks for playing with me while we gave Collins some time to do his, well, thing." Angel gathered her cards together, waved, and skipped out.

"Okay, Mark if you honestly think that I'm going to get in a…"

The filmmaker wasn't listening though as he rushed to the window to watch Collins and Angel link arms. He rested his head on the glass, "What I'd give to film them tonight…"

"What! Uh…Mark?" Roger joined him at the window, "When the fuck did you get into making pornos?"

"No! Roger… you…I… not the _sex_!" He sighed, adjusting his glasses with one hand, "I'm talking about the _romantic night_ that Collins was busy setting up for her y'know we were supposed to keep her busy until he was ready. He planned it all out with us the other day, but you forgot."

"Oh yeah…so that was what that whole eyebrow thing was about."

"Yea," Mark gave him a look. "_that_ was what that whole eyebrow thing was about."

Roger watched Collins and Angel disappear down the street, "Why do you want to film it so bad though?"

"Because it's so real! I mean, its real romance, not cheesy fake movie stuff. Not some shit someone wrote up…but…_real_ love. I mean you just look in their eyes when they're looking at each other and you know… that they love each other. God I'd give anything to film that…" He plopped down on the couch, and sighed again.

The rocker lingered by the window for a moment longer before joining him on the couch, "Don't you mean you'd give anything to have that?"

"What?"

"Isn't that what you really want? Wouldn't you rather live it… than just watch it, capture it on another film reel?"

"Yea, I…I guess."

Roger leaned back on the couch, and sighed, "You worry me sometimes."

Mark gave a defeated shrug, and bit his lip. He retreated to his camera, and Roger closed his eyes.

Minutes passed with Roger trying to remember when Mimi got off at the club tonight and Mark fiddling half heartedly with his camera. When it dawned on him…

"Hey!"

Roger opened green eyes reluctantly, "Hey what?"

"I won Uno!" Mark hopped off the table, "So doesn't that mean you have to dress in drag?"

"Uh…no. We never established that."

"Yes we did. There were stakes and bets…"

"And…" Roger said standing, "You never made yours."

"Well, I thought it was just assumed…"

"Uh…nope… definitely not."

Slowly he was moving across the loft. A few more steps and he could be out the door and on his way to anywhere but a dress.

"Come on, Roger, that's not fair!"

Roger shrugged his strong shoulders, "I'm a fuckin rocker, man, tell it to someone who gives a shit!"

And with that he slipped out of the loft, Mark's voice yelling after him. Roger had an excellent talent at blocking out words he didn't want to hear.

Roger was halfway down the street before he slowed his pace to a steady walk.

He'd take Mimi out like she once asked him to, and maybe by the time they got back…Mark would forget all about their night playing uno…

And even if he didn't, there was no way he would get Roger into a dress…

Or a skirt…

Or anything girly.


	2. B

**B is for Benny**

"Come on, Roger… just this one night. Just deal with Benny this one last time and wish him good luck and don't be a dick about it."

"And why should I, huh? To what fucking point? I'm not happy about him leaving, why the hell should I pretend?"

"Because this'll give the friendship closure, end it on a better note." Mark said, letting out a sigh, "Look it's not really hard to do."

"Yeah, maybe for you."

"And what the hell'sthat supposed to mean?"

The rocker turned away, "Forget it."

_Forget it._

_Forget you Roger, and your fucking stubborn pride!_

The filmmaker took in a deep breath and followed Roger to the window. During an argument, the window meant 'leave me the fuck alone or else'. Buthe hadn't retreated tothe bedroom yet, which of coursewould mean'you fucking so much as _touch _the door and I'll kick your ass'.

"Look just this one night. Just do it and get it over with, just sit in the loft with him and have a few beers. It'll be just like old times…"

"Except he's leaving." Roger muttered.

"_Roger_."

It felt like he was talking to a little kid…

"Oh fuck you Mark. Don't '_Roge_r' me."

…that liked to say fuck… a lot.

Mark sighed, "I just don't understand why you're being so stubborn about this! I mean he hasn't really been living with us for months; he's just making it official now by marrying Alison and moving the rest of his shit over… Just dothis tonight, share some laughs, get it over with…"

Roger threw his hands up as if in defeat, "God Mark why do you have to be so fucking…"

"What?"

_Nothing. Time to press the big bad rocker's buttons some._

"...So fucking _what_, Roger?"

"God damn self righteous! Why do you have to spend your time mending shit between people? Why does it matter so much to you?"

"Because… because our lives have been falling apart since April fucking died! And…"

Mark realized what he had said a little too late.

The rocker became stone at the mention of her name his arms had fallen uselessly to his sides, his green eyes darkened and dulled.

"Oh…oh shit, Roger, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I'm sorry just forget I said anything, okay? You…you don't have to spend time with Benny tonight, I'll just…"

Mark turned to leave, battling with self hatred right now. Roger had only just recently left his bedroom from the whole experience, was in many respects still going through withdrawal from the drug that sentenced him to death… and Mark had said _this_… _her_ name. oh fuck.

He started towards his room, but Roger grabbed his arm, tightly, stopping him. Mark turned slowly, bracing himself to get hit…knowing he deserved it…

"No…" Roger said, voice low…calculated, "I'll do it tonight. I'll hang out with the yuppy scum play buddy buddy…whatever."

Mark searched those green eyes for an explanation, but for once they revealed nothing.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next afternoon, Mark stumbled out of his bedroom with a massive headache. He put his hand over his eyes to block the bright light streaming in.

"Hangover much?"

"Oh shit!" Mark took a step backwards and nearly fell over.

Roger laughed from the window, "Don't pee yourself or anything."

"Shit Roger…what the hell are you doing up?" He sat down next to the rocker, leaning against the cool glass.

The rocker shrugged, "It's 4pm, Marky. I could always hold my alcohol better than you two."

Benny was still sprawled out on the couch with an empty beer bottle in his hand, snoring lightly. The filmmaker smiled, it had been one hell of a night. And the happiest he'd seen Roger in a long time…

"What do you think he meant when he said we were golden?"

Roger shrugged, "Hell if I know."

The filmmaker leaned his throbbing head into his pale hands and let out a small groan. Roger turned his attention back to the window, as he often did lately. Lost in thoughts, memories, God only knew… Mark avoided them by focusing on his films, but Roger got lost in them by staring out the window.

"Hey, Rodge…"

The rocker looked up from his daydream, "Yeah?"

Mark bit his lip, continuing slowly, "Why'd you decide to…hang out last night?"

Roger paused, startled by the question, but then recognition. Moments later green eyes shifted to avoid penetrating blue, but they didn't move soon enough.

Mark had seen it.

"Oh God…I really hate you two sometimes…" Came Benny's groan from the couch, rubbing weary eyes.

Roger stood and went to his room without another word.

Benny sat up to watch Roger's bedroom door fall shut, "What's wrong with him?"

Mark saw what was in those eyes, what Roger had realized last night at the mention of April's name. He bit his lip and looked out the window, anywhere that wasn't here, now, in the loft.

"And now _you're _going all quiet broody… what the hell'd I miss?" Benny sat up slowly, rubbing his temple.

Mark turned and shrugged, raising his eyebrows almost apologetically, "You want some tea or coffee or something?"

"Hah! You two actually have food in this place?"

The filmmaker smiled, "Nope. Just tea or coffee."

"Well fuck that." Benny slipped on his shoes and threw a jacket over his shoulders, "I'll get us some real breakfast… bagels or something, my treat."

"How kind." Mark said with a smirk.

"You know you'll miss me." Benny said with a wink before slipping out the door.

And Mark would. He had realized while looking in those green eyes all that this could be the last time they see Benny, the last time they spend time with him, so all their petty arguing over right or wrong didn't really matter. If Benny had died before coming over last night, all their fights would have seemed meaningless.

And with just the mention of April's name, Roger had figured that out last night, he'd put aside his anger so that if Benny's funeral came next…he'd have no regrets.

The filmmaker knocked lightly on Roger's door.

"What!" was the muffled response.

Mark consideredopening the door, but decided against it.

"Uh...Roger?"

"...Mark, I already asked you what. I'm not going to do it again."

He smiled and paused to let Roger's words wash away.

"Thanks."

There was a long pause, a deliberate silence, and then the door swung open revealing a very confused Roger on the other side.

"Mark…have you gone fucking nuts? What the hell did I do?"

He shrugged in a similar way as he did with Benny earlier and walked away.

"Mark?"

He prepared his tea slowly, before looking up with a small smile on his face, "Benny's bringing bagels."


	3. C

**C is for Collins **

…**and Captain Crunch**

"Morning bitches!" Collins called as he waltzed into the empty loft, carrying a paper bag in his hands.

Well it wasn't completely empty. There was a couch, a table, a refrigerator, a Roger holding a fender guitar, and a Mark holding a camera.

Roger smiled, "Collins where the hell've you been, man?"

"Getting breakfast for you lazy asses! We need to celebrate our first morning in the loft in style." He said, setting the bag down on the table.

"Close on Collins who's brought home a mysterious bag!" Mark said to his camera, joining the two at the table.

Collins laughed, "I thought you made movies, not documentaries!"

"This isn't for a documentary…purely for home video purposes." The filmmaker protested, lowering the camera, "When you're old and gray and your memory's all shot you'll want something to remember this by!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Roger pushed Mark in the shoulder, with a childish grin.

Mark scowled.

The rocker laughed and turned back to the table, "Hey, hey…let's see what's in the bag! If it's alcohol I might have to love you forever, Col."

"Hah, the last thing you need is alcohol!" Collins said, taking out a box of cereal, a gallon of milk, and three bowls.

"Captain Crunch!" Roger folded his arms across his chest, "_This_ is celebrating in style?"

"Hey, man, don't fuck with the Captain!"

Mark shook the box a little with his free hand, "Man, I haven't eaten this stuff since I was like ten years old."

Collins grinned, "And now you're going to eat a whole box!"

"What?"

"Well…you… we…_We're_ going to eat the whole box." Collins corrected, pouring the cereal out into the bowls.

Roger made a face, "Why?"

"Because if we just ate a bowl each then it wouldn't mean a damn thing. It'd be like any morning."

"And that would be a problem because…?" Roger sat the fender down and approached a bowl slowly.

"Roger, shut up! You're no fun!" The filmmaker said as he picked up a bowl.

A captain crunch piece hit him in the face.

Then another and another before he could react, smacking against his glasses and falling to the floor.

"Who? What?" He wasn't even sure why he asked though, because he automatically turned to Roger who sat grinning dumbly.

"See how much fun I can be, Marky?"

"Why you…fuck!" Mark grabbed crunch pieces and threw them all so that they rained down on Roger who tried to catch them in his mouth…But failed, miserably.

Crunch. Crunch.

Two fistfuls of captain crunch came flying. One for Mark and one for Roger.

If there was one thing Collins knew it was how to aim and throw captain crunch at two unsuspecting targets simultaneously with both his hands.

"Holy shit…" Mark breathed eyes wide. "He's good."

Roger simply rolled his eyes, which was his way of admitting defeat.

"That's right. Y'don't want to mess with me, you'll get your ass burnt." Collins said as he refilled their bowls with cereal and then poured on some milk. "A'ight bitches, eat up!"

"Uh, Collins…" Mark took his bowl in hand, "No spoons."

"Hell, boy, since when did you need a spoon to eat cereal?" Collins asked, lifting his bowl, "We do, however, need a toast. Here's to our first morning in our loft!"

They clanked their bowls together.

Lifted their bowls to their mouth.

Slurped the milk that escaped over the edge of the bowl.

And chewed on the cereal that tumbled in with the milk, crunch, crunch.

Mark wiped the milk from his mouth, "Here's to being free to do what we want!"

Again, they clanked their bowls, lifted them, slurped up the milk, and crunched up the cereal.

Roger grinned, "Here's to getting drunk and getting laid every night!"

And they clanked, lifted, slurped, and crunched.

"To finding that one philosophy to believe in and fight for above all else!"

"To winning an oscar for making the best damn films that I can!"

"To being the most powerful sex God that ever walked the planet!-Ow! Mark you fucker!"

"Give us something realistic, Mr. Bad Ass."

"Fine…" Roger grumbled, with a sigh, "To starting my own kick ass rock band and touring the country to sold out crowds!"

"A-fucking-men brothers!"

Clanking, lifting, slurping, crunching.

"There's still some left, we got anything more to toast to?" Roger poured the remainder of the cereal into the three bowls and added more milk.

"Always." Collins answered with a smile, "To whatever manipulator of faith that let us all together."

Mark nodded, "To being friends for the rest of our lives!"

"However short they may be!" Roger said with a laugh.

"Hey…" Mark gave a pout, "I expect you both to live till your fifty!"

"Oh, and why fifty Mr. Filmmaker?" Collins said, with a deep smile.

"Because that's how long I plan on living!"

"All right we've spent way too long on your toast, Marky." Roger held his bowl high, "Here's to us!"

"To us."

"To us!"

Clank, lift, slurp, crunch.

Roger turned to Mark then, "Hey y'know something this isn't half bad."

"Yeah." Mark smiled, "Not bad at all."


	4. D

A/n: edit afterwards, so apparently if a fic is rated M then it doesn't show up in the new chapters or new stories section of fanfic…and I thought how the heck will anyone know if this gets updated? So instead of upping the rating, I lowered the f word usage. "

D is for Drunk…

Mark picked up the bottle and drank more. Sitting on the roof by himself was somehow less lonely than sitting in the loft below. The loft that was empty other than the shell of a man he once knew. He shook his head and drank some more.

_What a year, huh. What a year. _

Benny abandoning them, April killing herself, Collins moving away, taking care of his dying best friend… helping him get through withdrawal in hopes that he might live long enough to make something of whatever was left of his life, Maureen cheating on him…and cheating on him…and cheating on him and breaking up with him for a woman.

He took another drink of the alcohol, head swimming as he let the effects of the drink numb his feelings away. It almost made him laugh. Substance abuse… that was Roger's thing, not his.

"Mark?"

Speak of the devil.

Wait…the devil has left his bedroom?

Mark stood rather sloppily, bottle still in hand, and watched the devil… er, well Roger… watched Roger come near.

Devil? Where had that come from?

"Hey…" Mark waved his bottle at the rocker, "you're out…of the room. Of the loft. For once, it's good to uh see you… uh, out?"

The rocker gave him a hard look, "You're drunk."

"Noooo shit."

"Is that what you've been doing every night this week? Coming up here, getting drunk?"

Mark nodded, taking a few steps towards the side of the roof, "Yea, yep! Right again."

Roger followed him, "Why?"

"Shit, Rodge… you stay in your room…you don't give a shit for months and now you come up here to ask me why I'm getting drunk."

"Look…this isn't easy for me..."

"Well fuck you. Who cares if it's not easy for you? Huh? Just go back to your room…all right? Let me get drunk in peace. I'll keep getting your food and your azt and making sure you survive."

He sighed, looking away, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Yeah…" Mark draped arms over the side of the roof, looking down at the street below.

Roger reached a hand out for his shoulder, and Mark tensed at the touch, tensed and pulled away. He took quick sloppy steps backwards, misjudging the angle at which he was going, misjudging the size of his steps and his length from the edge. Tripping backwards over the side of the roof, headed straight for the ground below… it was funny how that moment seemed to slow down to nothing for him. His hand lost its grip on the bottle and it tumbled before him.

_Gee isn't this exactly how this year should end _and somewhere in his drunken haze his heart raced, his mind screamed at him to fight, and he realized this was the end.

But then an arm grabbed him, pulled him back onto the roof before he could fall out of reach to splatter on the street below. Mark landed on the floor of the roof, hands shaking, unable to formulate thoughts.

Roger too seemed shocked beyond words. His face fighting against a furious anger and an unexplainable desperation, more emotion than Mark had seen him express in months. The filmmaker didn't move, didn't breathe…. Roger approached him quickly, hands shaking.

"You fuck! You stupid… you almost… do you know what…" The rocker shook his head, "You're so stupid!"

"I…I know…"

His near death experience brought him harshly back to reality, and all he felt of the alcohol's effects now was a woozy head and an inability to see straight.

"Mark…"

The filmmaker said nothing. Still focusing on just breathing.

"Mark you know that… that if you had fallen I would've jumped after you."

He looked up, "What? Roger… _no_…"

"I couldn't… not without you. I couldn't make it."

"You could…"

"_Mark_, just stop. You know I wouldn't… make it. I'm barely making it now. You can't do this! You can't get all drunk and fall off the side of a fucking building!" Roger's hands became fists by his sides and his voice shook as the words tumbled out of his mouth, "If I _hadn't_ been here… if I hadn't been here…I could've… lost…"

"Teaches you to come out of your bedroom more."

"Mark. I'm serious."

The filmmaker shrugged a little, "So am I."

A tense silence fell between them. Mark put his head in his hands and let the last few minutes just wash over him.

Roger sighed, sitting next to him, "What the hell happened?"

"…Maureen broke up with me…"

"What?"

"For a girl…"

The rocker's mouth fell open, "Really?"

Mark nodded.

"Shit…" Roger shook his head, took in a sharp breath, "Well you know she was-"

"I knew. I know. Just don't say it please. I…it just makes it worse."

"Yeah. I guess." The rocker sighed. "Well I never thought she deserved you."

Mark laughed bitterly, feeling a familiar sting in his chest, "Yeah a gorgeous, talented girl… it was me who never deserved her."

"No… Mark. She treated you like shit by the end of it. And if you can't see why you deserve better than her…hell…"

Mark shook his head, "Just…don't. I don't want to think about it."

"So your answer to not thinking about it…is to get drunk every night?"

"_Roger_…"

"Yeah I know… don't have a whole hell of a lot of room to talk." The rocker said, folding his arms.

A cold breeze passed over them and Mark leaned back onto the ground, staring at the sky above them.

Roger leaned back with him, "You think we can sleep out here tonight?"

"I don't know… it's cold you might get-"

"Mark…for tonight… Can we just pretend? Pretend like you still have a faithful Maureen. Pretend like I'm not sick and April's sleeping in my bed downstairs. Pretend like we just snuck up here to get away from our women and enjoy the night and think of all the shit we're going to do in the future. Can't we just do that…just for tonight?"

The filmmaker closed his eyes and bit his lip against the wave of emotion, struggling to keep his voice calm.

"Yeah, Rodge…yeah, we can do that."


	5. E

**a/n:** so sorry these take so long to get out, it's usually because I can't think of what the next letter should be and I run through several possibilities that never end up working out. Also congrats are in order, I think this is the first Rent fanfiction I've written that doesn't have the f word in it. Not once! And I didn't even have to edit any out or try to not use it… WEIRD. Thank you everyone for your fantastic support and reviews. Seriously, I can't express how much I appreciate it.

**E is for Early **

The door swung open and Roger entered. The smell of smoke, sweat, and alcohol entered in with him permeating the loft. On the couch, Mark sat huddled over a notebook in his lap, dark pen in one hand. He looked up when Roger entered and gave him a tired smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning?" Roger ran a hand through his short blond hair, collapsing on the couch next to him, "What the hell time is it?"

"4am." Mark paused, looked closer at his best friend, "You're… you're not high."

He chuckled, "You sound surprised."

"You usually are after a show, especially this late…or well early morning…"

They fell into a comfortable silence. Mark scribbled more words on the crowded notebook paper and Roger pulled the black coat from his shoulders, relishing in the sound of pen against paper.

"So its 4am, why are you still up?" Roger grinned, leaned in to pinch Mark's cheek playfully, "You been waitin up for little ole me, Marky?"

Mark made a face and pushed his hand away, "No."

But the slight hesitation in his voice always made Roger wonder if Mark was lying. His face was hunched over the notebook paper so Roger couldn't see his eyes and know for certain. Mark shifted next to him as though he sensed Roger's disbelief.

"I just had an idea for a film and wanted to get it all written down before I forgot. Just got distracted is all."

"Yeah, yeah… just keep telling yourself all those excuses." Roger smiled, "We know the truth."

He looked over, eyes narrowed, "We?"

"Oh y'know… everyone."

Mark rolled his eyes, "_Right_… just like your belief that everyone who has ever met you wants to have sex with you."

Roger threw his hands up in mock exasperation, "What? I can't help it. It's one of the curses that come with being a sex god!"

"Uh huh, sure." He couldn't help but roll his eyes again as he went back to writing.

The rocker stood, grabbed the notebook from the filmmaker's hands, and folded his arms over his strong chest, "Mark Cohen one of these days I _will_ seduce you and you'll finally understand why that title is so fitting."

"You can try." He said as he stood and reached for the notebook.

"Try and succeed!" Roger held the notebook high, just out of the shorter man's reach.

"Try and fail!" Mark corrected, jumping to reach it, but Roger jumped with him making the notebook impossible to reach.

"Oh _no_…" Roger smirked as Mark grabbed on to his arm pushing against him so hard they both collapsed to the floor. "I'll have you on my bed…" Roger held down Mark's right hand as Mark's left pushed against his shoulder and grasped for the notebook, "taking down your pants so fast…" Mark let out a little growl, holding down Roger's left arm with his knee, "you won't know what hit you."

Mark grunted as Roger pushed against his chest with his elbow and he struggled to get away, "Please, Roger…you're not…_ that_ attractive."

Roger let go suddenly, sending Mark sprawling, a satisfied smile spread across his face, "So you admit that I_ am_ at least somewhat attractive."

Mark rolled his eyes and stood, notebook in hands. "Yes Roger, oh God, you are the sexiest man I have ever met. Every day I have to try so hard to restrain myself from throwing you up against a wall and screwing your brains out."

"That's what I thought, but a little wrong. Y'see it'd be _me_ screwing _your _brains out. I am the sex god after all." Roger grinned, sitting on the couch again.

Mark gave him a look, "You're such an asshole."

"But a _sexy _asshole, right? That's all that really matters" He insisted, but Mark merely rolled his eyes in response. "So speaking of sex…where's Maureen at?"

"It's 4 in the morning Roger, she's sleeping." Mark sat next to him on the couch, "God where did you think she'd be?"

"I forgot how early it is." He yawned and then remembered how little he'd seen of them lately, "Hey, how's that goin by the way… with you two?"

"Good. It's uh-" Mark smiled and then added, "It's great, really."

And Roger knew what that meant. The blind smile. The fidget at the mere mention of her name. Those blue eyes filled with a distinct, vibrant life.

_Why didn't I see it sooner?_

Roger stared at him, green meeting blue in a new level of understanding, "You love her… don't you?"

He nodded, blushing, "Yes. It's crazy. I mean, I never thought I'd have something like this. Someone like her."

"Yeah," Roger shook his head, grinning, "She sure is something else."

"How's everything with April?"

The rocker tensed.

"Oh y'know, she gets moody sometimes. We fight a lot about stupid shit…" He shrugged, "But the sex is good."

"Roger…"

_You can always see right through me._

"I know, I know, but… I _love_ her. You can get that now, can't you? You can get that no matter how hard it gets, no matter what she does or says, no matter how much we fight… I can't give her up. I can't just let her go."

The filmmaker nodded, staring at his hands folded in his lap.

"I _can't_. I mean she's amazing. We have fun together. We…"

"Shoot up together?"

"Mark…._Don't_ judge me."

"I'm not judging." He bit his lip, "I'm just worried."

Roger sighed, leaned back in the couch, "It's not a problem. It's just something to do at parties, after a show, something to do with April that connects us. We're so different, but this is something we can share, y'know."

"Why do you do it?"

"I just told you."

"No, I mean the real reason." He closed the notebook and set it on the floor next to them, "Those were just excuses."

_I could never bull shit you._

Roger looked away, took in a deep breath, "Sometimes you_ feel_ too much, y'know, feel too strongly. Pain, love, anger… it builds up so strong, I feel it all so completely sometimes that I can't handle it. Heroin helps me to relax, helps me to feel empty."

"I think I'd rather have feelings."

"Well that's where we differ, Marky."

_I let myself feel too much._

_You let yourself feel too little._

"Yea…"

Roger threw an arm around Mark's thin shoulders and together they stood, yawning in near perfect unison, "I guess we should get to bed. It's really early."

"Yea, I know." They walked towards their bedrooms, arm over shoulders, "But it's one of my favorite times of the day."

Roger smiled, "Yeah. Mine too."

And they went into their separate bedrooms, to sleep away their separate nights, to have energy for their separate days, to reconnect again some other early time.


End file.
